In fairness, practically every word of Joe Jonas’s first-person piece in New York magazine is a revelation to me, as I have basically gone out of my way not to know anything about the Jonas Brothers other than Nick is the hottest one. But I have had some assumptions about the JoBros in general based on what little has managed to slip through, and this incredibly juicy profile of the middle Jonas squashed almost all of them. Perhaps there is nothing new here for fans, but I’m pretty sure most of y’all don’t walk among us anyway. Keep reading »
Tag Archives: new york magazine
“I’m resetting my dick and my brain,” said Greg Barris of his decision to give up porn, sex and masturbation.
Barris is one of the men featured in New York magazine’s piece about the male anti-masturbation movement. According to the piece, a number of men are reflecting on their masturbation habits — even abstaining from “fapping” altogether in order to be able to perform better with women and to be better men in general.
Thirty-two-year-old Henry compared the feeling of not masturbating for a long period of time to being on antidepressants. He reported feeling more alert, younger and far more attracted to women, better able to communicate with them, better able to perform in bed.
In my personal sexual experience, I’ve found this introspection about porn, masturbation and sexual performance, to be a growing trend amongst the men I sleep with. More than three of my sexual partners have expressed the sentiment that “porn is screwing me up.” Keep reading »
Such an astonishing photo, which shows how half of Manhattan went black when the power went out following Hurricane Sandy. There are still many people without power, heat, and hot water who need our help, so please check out this list of resources. [NYMag.com]
I have very mixed feelings about a piece on NYMag.com’s blog about “hipster sexism.” The
authors Alissa Quart and Lauren Sandler author Alissa Quart described “hipster sexism” as:
Hipster Sexism consists of the objectification of women but in a manner that uses mockery, quotation marks, and paradox … ads, photographs, television shows, films, and T-shirts, which represent young women being defined, but always ironically — with a wink and a nod — by their sexuality and/or bodies.
Old Sexists (or Classic Sexists), they explain, are Republicans in Congress — people my parents’ age — whose outdated beliefs about gender and sexuality could be attributed to just not getting with the times. Hipster sexists “should know better,” the authors write, but don’t, and try to pass it off as funny and/or ironic.
The kingdom of Kim Kardashian has been denounced more frequently and more publicly than any other celebrity name in recent history. There’s something about this family — their wholly public lives played out on screen like a strange, awkwardly scripted melodrama? Their unrepentant groveling for fame and media attention? The sex tape reportedly executed to the very hilt by mom? — that coaxes other people into the belief that they are simply fodder for negativity, as if any and all malice and disapproval has been well-earned. Forget turning a blind eye and the tired adage of “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all” (what a bore), because what else can we come to expect as a general reaction to a family, converging upon one woman, at once grossly infantilized and boorishly sexualized, who has made fame itself its trade? Keep reading »
Confession: Last night, I read the New York magazine piece, “I Just Want to Feel Everything’: Hiding Out With Fiona Apple Musical Hermit,” not once, but three times. I think it was one of the best music interviews I’ve read in a long time. I’ve always been a Fiona Apple fan. Tidal came out my first year of college and I think I listened to the CD (we still had CDs back then) until it cracked. “The Child Is Gone,” my favorite track on the album, inspired me to turn some of my poems into songs. Back then, I thought I was going to be a performer. And actually, my voice is similar to Fiona’s, we have that brassy alto thing going on. Though I went down a different path, I’ve followed Fiona’s career, owned all of her albums, and came to think of her as the woman living my phantom dream existence. I can’t help but be inspired by the way she hermits herself for years and reemerges with a brilliant new album with an octopus on her head. She can continue to rant about stuff, smoke hash out of a champagne flute and cloister herself off from the world all she wants. And I will watch admiringly from afar, living vicariously through the abandon with which she flings herself into her work. Below, some of my favorite quotes from the interview. Keep reading »
Growing up in the suburban Northeast, I didn’t fit in. At my large, mostly-white, upper-middle-class high school, I wasn’t the funniest, the smartest, the most charming, or the prettiest: therefore, I didn’t really exist. Other kids cared about their Abercrombie & Fitch polos, what went down at the last Dave Matthews Band concert, and the Jettas they would pick out on their 16th birthday. That wasn’t me at all. I had tons of books on my shelves, a stud in my tongue, and every single Ani Di Franco album in existence. For three whole years, I mostly just rattled around in my own head.
Then, in the year 2000, when I was 16 and in junior year, my dad put the computer in our family room on the Internet. (This was back in the the Dark Ages when a family usually had one computer, it was shared by everyone, and it was usually a desktop.) I don’t know how I found my way there, exactly, but I soon discovered gURL.com, “a teen site and community for teen girls.” On gURL.com I could read about dating and sex and birth control (not that I had use for much of that information just yet) and talk with other teen girls in the site’s chat rooms. And through links on gURL.com, I found my way to other websites that interested me. Pretty soon, my budding-feminist-self read all about things they didn’t discuss in school — abortion rights and the Taliban — on Salon.com and websites for the Feminist Majority Foundation and Ms. Magazine. Keep reading »
The lovely Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill are on the latest cover of New York magazine, talking about their movie “Moneyball” that opens on September 23rd. Brad looked kinda sexy on the cover—sort of a reversion to his “Legends of the Fall” self. However, inside, I was deeply troubled with this image. What the heck is going on with his hair? After the jump, some names for Brad’s new hairstyle. Which we’re sure will catch on as hardcore as The Rachel. Keep reading »
New York magazine’s “Sex Diaries” issue is on stands now and it’s a fairly entertaining read. The feature spotlights a number of different New Yorkers who have shared the details of their sex life over a period of days. The one that interested me the most was written by a 29-year-old expat living in Cabo San Lucas with her boyfriend, or, rather, her “future ex-boyfriend” (FEB) whom she’s about to dump in favor of moving back to the states. Her sex diary is an up-and-down tale of being angry and then sad and then horny, as she and her FEB fight and then f**k. “It’s the first time I’ve ever cried during sex,” she writes, “And the first I’ve also had such a strong orgasm come with it.” Color me crazy, but when I’m angry or sad with a boyfriend, the last thing I want to do is screw. But maybe I’m alone! A commenter on her sex diary wrote, “I totally get the whole knowing-you’re-about-breakup-makes-hooking-up-awesome-thing.” Do you get it? Have you had amazing sex with someone, knowing the relationship was about to end? [NYMag.com] Keep reading »
Talk about a test-drive. Recent fashion seasons have seen some of the highest heels on record, from Nina Ricci’s heel-less high-heels to Rodarte’s towering Frankenstein boots. They may be beautiful, but can real women walk to work in the seven-inch stilettos that sent some supermodels spilling on the runways? The ladies at New York‘s style blog, The Cut, pulled together some of the craziest footwear and found out what happens when you try and sashay down the street in them. “They’re incredibly uncomfortable,” one good sport reports. And as for those Nina Ricci heels? Forget about it — unless you like walking on your tiptoes. [The Cut] Keep reading »